PRATHAM PARTHA of Sansriti: a poetic treatment of a Buddhadeb Basu’s poetic drama

 

PRATHAM PARTHA of Sansriti: a poetic treatment of a Buddhadeb Basu’s poetic drama (staged on 13 May 2026)

 

Every theatre buff would acknowledge that it is very rare for a production to give the viewers an unqualified pleasant experience so that they are compelled to repeat viewing the play immediately on the next staging. And that happened exactly to me after seeing Buddhadeb Basu’s poetic drama PRATHAM PARTHA by Sansriti at the Academy of Fine Arts. I once again saw the play in their next staging at Giris Mancha. Such an immaculate classical presentation of a classical text is a rare happening in the Bengali theatre world.   

What struck me foremost was the aspect of the drama on which the playmaker put the weightage on. Debesh Chattopadhyay’s emphasis was not on what transpired on the eve of the Kurukshetra battle when the royal mother Kunti confronts Karna and divulges the truth of his birth to him, but on the psychological analysis of the characters involved. An exhaustive reading of the script by Debesh including the between-the-lines connotations that the poet-playwright had fashioned to adorn the play, did the magic that compels the viewer to repeatedly come back to the play. The meeting of Karna with Kunti though is narrated in the epic, the tryst of Draupadi with Karna came to Buddhadeb’s imagination as a possible happening that could be deduced from a few earlier indications in the narration of Mahabharat itself. This part of the drama has been taken to a different level of dramaturgy by Debesh simply by applying human psychological interpretation, but at the same time keeping true to the text. Let us see an illustration of this from a sequence in the play. Draupadi tells the two elderly Brahmins that she was a bit hesitant to meet Karna – ‘My mind too, was but divided into two. On the way my feet had stopped a few times – there were a lot of hindrances, lots of doubts.’ Since her entry we find Draupadi walking with a limp, as if there was some thorn stuck to her feet. A little later as she prepares to go for the tryst, she plucks out the thorn from her feet. Debesh masterly uses Radha’s Krishnabhisar episode as a syntax to mount this episode of Panchali’s rendezvous, which gives a surprising yet a refreshing twist to the depiction of the incident. If one goes over the script of Buddhadeb one would come across indications of such a tryst in her conversation with the Brahmins. Draupadi says that she is in doubts whether she would recognise Karna. This is like hiding one’s paramour from others. Before she leaves for Karna, she is seen to make herself as presentable as possible by straightening out her dress and managing her dishevelled hair, etc. She, then in a very secretive amorous gait approaches Karna. She tells Karna, ‘All of a sudden I wanted to see you again.’ Then she blurts out in an earnest entreaty, ‘Isn’t it possible, Karna, isn’t it possible – here at this hour, under the sky, just for a moment in this silence, for a few moments …. We share our love with each other?’ There is a distinct tone of a sense of hurt pride or, so to say touchiness, in the words of Draupadi. Karna’s ineffable, or rather inexpressible attraction towards her is palpable. And from all these the playwright had indicated a very subtle extramarital attraction between the two. It is for the students of theatre to see how Debesh has manifested this psychological tension between two paramours on to the stage.

Without tampering with even a single phrase or word of the original text Debesh has his actors delivering their lines – and this too, is an aspect to note. He discarded the usual melodic tone of reciting the poetic lines, and instead made the actors to scan their lines in the general conversation mode. Without losing a bit of the poetic texture of Buddhadeb’s lines the characters assume a normal way of conversing.

Turna Das speaks her lines with flair yet keeping each word of her dialogue in its proper perspective. With faultless articulation and play of voice she portrays the role together with her easy flowing use of the stage and her physical expressiveness. And so, the central female character of the epic as a tormented lover with her anxiety and her yearnings come alive on the stage. She has once again shown how with pure acting talent can bring about a character live onto the stage regardless of the mere physical appearance of the actor.

Talking of physical appearance, it is needless to say that none of the actors can match the physical look as described in the epics. The character of Karna, for instance is defined by its firmness, determination, inflexibility and resilience of his personality as well as by his persona. But that is an impossible proposition for any actor. Though in this production Arna Mukherjee took up the challenge head on. And he did his job brilliantly. He exhibited outstanding skill in his delivery of lines as well as in his physical expressions where he had to display a restrained countenance. Especially noticeable was his expressive hands. In Krishna’s case the question of physical look is irrelevant. The character’s mainstay is political shrewdness and diplomacy. And that needs masterly delivery of the lines with variations in inflection and pitch, accompanied with facial expressions. Rajatava Dutt with his constrained and controlled performance was the perfect choice for the character, and he did a marvellous job by not treading into melodramatic theatrics. Physical aspect does not matter in the case of Kunti. What makes the character unique is together with the required royal grace and elegance, she carries pride and disgrace of a motherhood that pervades the entirety of her being. Senjuti Mukhopadhyay has imbibed the soul of the character so deeply into her that she deliberates her lines with the required tone, that is not an easy job to perform. In the sequence of Kunti revealing to Karna the mystery of his birth Senjuti’s exposition is akin to a musical refrain. The viewers would treasure this wonderful performance in their memory. One wonders how could she nurture her position of significance in the Bengali theatre world without any interruption for so long a period. Abhra Mukhopadhyay and Shyamashis Pahari as the two Brahmins should be lauded for their scope of performance were limited to a set of dialogues only, which they delivered impeccably.                

At the end a few words about Debesh’s work. As stated, he did not tamper with the original script, but in a couple of places his intervention I believe has enriched the script. This I say with all due respect to Basu.  After Kunti being turned down by Karna leaves, we see Karna deep in thought. We believe that he must have been engrossed in his conversation with Kunti. At this point of time Draupadi calls out to him from behind. This startles him and he retorts, ‘Mother?’ Another such a beautiful dramatic element could also be found elsewhere, too. The second interference is in the last scene where he totally discards the concluding remarks of the two Brahmins. After the exit of Krishna, the two Brahmins enter but without a single word stare at the audience and then leaves the stage slowly.

The total scenography has been designed obviously by Debesh himself. He magically transforms the stage into the banks of the Ganges in Hastinapur with two teak tress and undulated forest floor with a suggestion of the river done with blue web and ropes. A few dry teak leaves strewn on the forest floor are used as props in a few specific dramatic moments. Normal lights can do wonders has once again been proved by Debesh in this production. His meaningful use of the blue and red lights needs applause. Lights were handled by Tapas Bhattacharya and Alip Mullick. For the background score he used esraj, sarod and flute. This aptly created the melancholic mood of the play as well as few euphoric moments, too. The sounds of horses’ hoofs in a few of the moments need appreciations, too. Sound was operated by Anindya Nandi. Appreciations are also due for the make-up artistes Md Ali and Debjit Pal. There were no signs of stinginess in Anik Ghosh’s dress-designing. The black coat, like that of the lawyers for Krishna who had just returned from the mantranasabha or the Advisory Council meeting was a master stroke to identify Krishna.

An exquisitely enjoying experience, indeed.

 

The next Blog will be on SHESH BASANTA (transl: The Last Spring) of Naihati Rangasena staged on 27 May 2026.